Batman Part I: Two Faces of Justice
by SuperBatWonder
Summary: After Bruce Wayne witnesses the murder of his parents as a child, he travels the world training not only his body, but his mind for the power to combat evil in Gotham City. When he returns to the corrupt city, though, he learns that his true journey has only begun as an old friend returns to confront Bruce with the question, "Is Batman only a mask to hide behind?"
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter One**

A swift right hand darts towards the ninja like a cobra. Like the ninja being attacked, his opponent wears a black ninja-yoroi. Quickly, the ninja pushes his attacker's hand off course. As the attacker's left arm comes up to take a swing, the ninja grabs it with his right hand and pulls his opponent to him. The ninja twists to the side slightly so his left hand goes under his opponent's outstretched arm. The ninja presses his fist into his opponent's back just between his shoulder blades, and using his immense strength, is able to flip his opponent onto his back.

Although it is faint and undetectable to an untrained ear, the ninja can hear the light bounds of a second opponent sneaking up behind him. This new attacker wraps his right arm around the ninja's neck, choking him. The ninja elbows him in the stomach, making him release the ninja. Grabbing his attacker's arm, the ninja slides behind him, twisting his arm backwards over his head. The attacker gets lucky and gets a chop at the ninja's face, catching him off guard so that he loses his grip on him.

The chop spins the ninja around just in time to see his first opponent, now back on his feet, throw a punch that the ninja is able to catch. Attacker number one swings a high kick, but the ninja ducks beneath his leg. Now behind him, the ninja pushes him to the ground. As attacker number one rolls away, his partner hops over him, landing in a roll to the ninja, and attempts to swipe his feet away from beneath me. The ninja cartwheels out of the way of his kick.

Attacker number one charges, but again the ninja blocks his punch and jabs him in the side. The ninja grabs attacker number one's arm and undercuts him in the jaw. Attacker number two kicks the ninja in the side, but the ninja gives him a blow to the side of the head. Attacker number two finally looks down for the count. Attacker number one is blocked by the ninja, before receiving a final two punches to the chest. He is down now.

All is silent in the monastery as the ninja slips back into the shadows. He ignores the throbbing ache in his abs as he slowly sneaks his way through the shadows, listening for a sound.

He feels before he hears.

A fist emerges out of thin air, colliding with his chest, knocking him to the ground. The ninja gets up, and leans back quickly as the fist shoots towards his face. The attacker kicks, and the ninja grabs his leg. He loses his balance and lands on the ground. Instantly, the attacker's legs shot up and hit the ninja in the chest, catching him off guard. He managed to stay on his feet, but the attacker sprung back to his as well. As the ninja threw a punch, the attacker caught his fist, and spun behind him, pulling the ninja's arm painfully behind his back, and finally flipped the ninja to the ground, where he laid panting, his chest rising and falling, beat.

The ninja on the ground pulled down the black hood of his ninja-yoroi, revealing his handsome, chiseled, fair American face, unwrinkled from his young twenty-six years of life. His black hair lay unkempt, messed up from the fighting. His opponent, an ancient Korean man with a long, pointed beard that matched his long, white hair, pulled the younger ninja to his feet. Unlike the ninja, the old man wore no black ninja-yoroi. Only a thin, white Sensei's robe and pants.

"Let me try again," the young ninja begged between gasps. By now, his Korean was fluent. By now, he was fluent in every language known to man. "Please, Master Kirigi."

Master Kirigi stared at the ninja, as if searching the depths of the young man's thoughts. "You cannot win," the master said slowly in Korean.

The ninja punched a wooden column in anger, splintering it in two. "Master, I know I can learn ninjutsu. I just need another chance!" The ninja looked down in frustration. He had gone too long without meditation. There wasn't any time for neither meditation nor sleep. He needed to train. Again, silence filled the monastery.

"Bruce," said Master Kirigi calmly. Bruce looked up slowly. This was the first time his Sensei had addressed him by his first name. Bruce's anger was replaced by a sense of surprise as the Korean sensei began to speak in English, which Bruce had never heard him do before. "You have traveled the world for over a decade since a very young age, mastering every fighting method from boxing to jiu-jitsu. You are fluent in every know language from Spanish to Chinese. You are an expert in chemistry and forensics, and you are at the peak of human physicality and intelligence, and you can escape any trap." The sensei looked Bruce in the eyes. "Any trap but one." The sensei walked to a window and looked out at the high, snowy mountains of Korea. "You have perfected your body, but your mind is still weak. The only trap that you are not allowing yourself to learn to escape from is that of your Past. If you never learn to confront the Truth of your Past and accept it, you will never truly find what you seek."

Bruce hadn't moved. He stayed standing in silence where he was, his back to Master Kirigi.

The sensei turned to Bruce. "Tell me, Mr. Wayne, what happened to you all those years ago?"


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

It began eighteen years ago on a cold, sleepy night. A shot in the night, the skidding of pearls, and the cries of an eight year old boy were the soundtrack for a destined moon.The day after the Park Row Tragedy, the events of that night were splattered across the Gotham Gazette and Gotham Globe like blood across a brick alley. The article covered the events of that night as if it were juicy gossip. There was something missing, though, the boy would come to realize. It was the reason his family had been in that alleyway that night. The story didn't begin in Park Row on a cold, sleepy night, like the papers claimed. It began on the vast emerald lawn of the great Wayne Manor, as long wooden sticks, seen as swords to the boys, crashed in the air.

The two boys ran through the vast emerald lawn of the great Wayne Manor. Long wooden sticks seen as swords to the boys clashed in the air.

"En garde, Pasquale!" yelled the taller of the two, smiling as only a child can.

"But Bruce, I want to be Zorro for once!" complained the other boy, a frown spreading on his soft face. "Why do I have to be the bad…?"

While he had let his guard down, Bruce had managed to suddenly knock his opponent's stick out of his hand and put the tip of his own stick to his friend's throat.

"That's why, Tommy. The good guy always wins," answered Bruce, lowering his stick.

As Bruce turned his back to Tommy, he felt a soft stab in his back. He turned to see Tommy grinning. "But isn't the good guy supposed to kill the bad guy?"

Bruce matched Tommy's smile playfully. "Oh, hush, you!"

Tommy tackled Bruce and the two wrestled in the grass. Tommy got up and began running towards the back of the manor, Bruce right behind him. A forest surrounded the sides and back of Wayne Manor, and Tommy entered it quickly, followed by Bruce. The sky disappeared above the thick leaves at the tops of the trees, making the world dark and shadowy. Bruce couldn't see Tommy ahead of him anymore, and he had never gone in the forest alone. He became worried. Finally he came to a clearing. At the center sat an ivy covered brick well, with boards covering the opening. Tommy stood on top of it.

"Tommy!" Bruce called, "We aren't supposed to be in the forest alone!"

"What are you afraid of?" Tommy yelled back. "Was Zorro afraid of defending the common people from the alcalde even though it was against the law? Was he afraid of flirting with Inez and Lolita at the same time? I know you weren't afraid to sneak out of our hotel room in Metropolis that one night against your father's orders!"

Bruce walked slowly towards Tommy. "I mean it, Tommy. We have to go back. We could get hurt."

Tommy mocked Bruce's serious tone. "What's wrong? Afraid the rich boy will get mud on his shirt?"

At this, Bruce leaped from the ground to Tommy. Tommy quickly jumped off of the well out of panic. With Bruce's entire weight landing on the old and rotten planks, they broke apart abruptly, sending the boy freefalling down the dark abyss. He landed with a soft thud on the hard dirt below, knocking the wind out of him.

"Bruce?" Tommy shouted down. Bruce could only manage a low moan. Tommy took off running towards the manor.

Bruce sat with his back against the rock wall, the only light coming through the hole he had just fell through. He lay on his side, sore, dirt coating his bruised cheeks. Across from him a long, dark stone tunnel led to unknown reaches.

A sudden ruffling sound made him snap to attention, but then left him alone again in an eerie silence. Just as Bruce began to pass it off as his imagination, he heard it again, louder this time. Curious, Bruce stood to his feet and slowly began walking towards the tunnel ahead of him. He stopped before going any further. He took a deep breath and entered.

He could barely see, but he managed to follow the long path, his hand keeping balance against the hard rock wall. He could hear only his soft breath, and every so often a strange high pitch squeaking sound. Eventually, a new sound reached his ears. It sounded like running water. As his eyes adjusted to the dark, he saw that he was reaching the end of the tunnel.

Ahead of him, the tunnel opened up into an enormous cavern. A large platform of flat rock stretched ahead, leading to a long peninsula, ending with a steep cliff to a dark pit. Stretches of natural stone walkways led to different tunnels and parts of the cave. To the right, a large waterfall cascaded outside of a large opening in the cave that must have let out into the forest outside. Bruce gasped loudly at the sight.

That's when he heard the ruffling and squeaking again, this time as if it were right next to him. He looked up slowly at the high cavern wall to see that it was entirely covered in not rock, but a moving black leather material. Out of nowhere, something large flew quickly past his head and up to join whatever was on the roof. That wasn't the only thing flying in the cave. Several more winged objects fluttered from the cave roof, darting quickly. Another squeak came from behind Bruce. He turned cautiously, facing the way he had come down the tunnel. He stood still in fear as he came eye to eye with angry red pupils that had been disturbed. As if a switch had been thrown, red eyes opened along the entire roof of the tunnel, glaring at the intruder who had awoken them.

Bruce opened his mouth and screamed at the top of his lungs and ran back towards the well. Bats flew past him, swarming him in leather wings and echoing screeches. Sharp talons ripped through his clothes. Ahead of him, Bruce saw a bright light that wasn't there before. Running into the person holding the flashlight, he saw that it was his father, Thomas. He hid his face in Thomas's chest and held on to him with an iron grip, sobbing uncontrollably. Bats flew around the unafraid man, who picked his son up and carried him back to the well. The smell of cologne and aftershave let Bruce know that he was finally safe again.


End file.
